


Earth And Sky

by Anxiety_Elemental



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Dragons, Flying, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29452890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxiety_Elemental/pseuds/Anxiety_Elemental
Summary: When Wrathion says “I have a surprise for you!” the result could be one of two things: an adventure away from the stresses of their lives, or it could be a disaster of the dragon's own making.
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	Earth And Sky

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be an entry for last year's Wranduin week but now it's a late Valentines Day thing.
> 
> There are no content warnings for this fic, enjoy this silly thing

When Wrathion says “I have a surprise for you!" the result could be one of two things: an adventure away from the stresses of their lives, or it could be a disaster of the dragon's own making. Initially, Anduin thought it was the former.

This is how Wrathion persuaded Anduin to take him to an empty field in southern Elwynn, only to proffer a potion bottle he declined to identify.

“This isn't much of a surprise,” Anduin comments, dryly.

“The surprise comes after you drink,” Wrathion says, still holding up the suspicious vial. It's a black liquid, with some kind of golden particulate swirling inside. It's not especially appetizing.

“Which is…?” Anduin prompts.

Wrathion raises an eyebrow, “You do know what a surprise is, yes?”

“Wrathion,” Anduin began, in his best Disapproving voice, “I'm not drinking a mysterious potion you've been tinkering with without knowing what it does.”

Wrathion pouts. (He would dispute that claim, the Black Prince does not _pout_ , but Anduin knows a pout when he sees one.) “Where's your sense of adventure?”

Anduin crosses his arms, and Wrathion sighs, resigned.

“This is based on a discovery made by some of your most esteemed archaeologists,” Wrathion begins “It’s called the Vial of the Sands, it allowed ancient researchers to approach stone drakes by taking a potion which transformed them. I have modified it to suit our purposes, but I have every reason to believe it will work as intended.”

“Your wording doesn't fill me with confidence,” Anduin says.

“When it works,” Wrathion amends, “It will give you the shape of a dragon, temporarily of course.” His voice softened, became more open, more earnest. “I have carried you on my back many times, but it does not compare to the experience of true flight. It is a joy of my life I would like to share with you, my dear.”

Anduin still regards the bottle with mistrust, but heaves a long sigh of resignation. He holds out a hand, and Wrathion, grinning, hands him the bottle. Anduin uncorks it, and gives a tentative sniff, the potion smells oddly of dirt. "How much should I take?”

“How much you consume is proportional to the duration of the magic,” Wrathion explains, “Try just a sip.”

Anduin holds the vial to his lips, and with a grimace, pours a small amount into his mouth. The liquid is unpleasantly gritty, sticking to his teeth. With a disgusted “Bleh” he re-corks the bottle, and waits.

Before he can ask when it should take effect, Anduin begins to feel a headache press against his forehead. Then he's overwhelmed by an intense vertigo, the world spins and he's falling falling falling until he’s not. He lays still, unsure the process was over. It must have worked, the barest twitch moves foreign muscles under toughened skin. Wrathion walks over to stand by what Anduin now recognizes as the end of a snout.

“A bit overwhelmed?” Wrathion asks, his teasing voice tinged with worry.

“Wrathion,” Anduin began, but his voice is deeper, and he feels it reverberate through an unfamiliar throat and chest.

“...Perhaps going flying on day one was optimistic.” Wrathion frowned. “You're not in pain, are you?”

“No,” Anduin says, and tries to stand, having to arrange a greater number of limbs to do so. He's still missing his right leg, now his back right leg, from the knee down, except now he doesn't have a prosthetic to stand on. He's able to balance, shakily, on three legs using his tail ( _his_ tail?) and his wings ( _his_ wings?) to help.

Wrathion frowns, tapping his chin with one clawed finger, “Let me try something.”

In a puff of dark smoke and embers, Wrathion transforms. Anduin stares, disoriented somewhat by being at eye level with Wrathion's true form. Wrathion doesn't seem as bewildered, as he nudges Anduin's shoulder with his head, encouraging him to sit back on his haunches, and then letting Anduin lean on Wrathion's shoulder for support.

Feeling a bit more stable, Anduin cranes his long neck to get a better look at his new form. Even knowing what to expect it’s still jarring to see the expanse of dark scales over the unfamiliar form. Because of course Wrathion would have him turn into a _black_ dragon.

“I should've brought a mirror,” Wrathion murmurs, with a note of awe, “Then you could see how gorgeous you still are.”

If Anduin could blush in this form he would. Instead Anduin tries unfurling his wings, wincing at the sensation of new, alien muscles moving in his back and shoulders. He gives his wings an experimental flap, and feels the air currents rush over delicate membranes. He shudders, and Wrathion nuzzles his neck with a questioning rumble in his throat.

“It's just... a lot to take in.” Anduin says.

“If you need more time to adjust to the magnificence of being a dragon, that is perfectly acceptable,” Wrathion says. “We do not have to go flying today, there is plenty of potion left.”

“Depends,” Anduin says. “I don't have to jump off a cliff, do I?”

“Oh, that will be unnecessary,” Wrathion says, with a long draconic smirk. “We dragons can take off from the ground anytime we like. When you're ready, all you have to do is open your wings, and start with a downbeat on your jump.”

Anduin takes a deep bracing breath. “Okay, I'm ready.”

Wrathion nods, and slides over to give Anduin some space. After a bit of wobbling, Anduin crouches down, then using all three legs pushes off from the ground. With a beat of his wings he rises into the air, feet leaving the ground, and for a moment feels weightless. It's like nothing he's experienced before. And then he forgets to flap his wings again.

He falls back down to the ground in an undignified tangle of limbs. He hears Wrathion suppress a snicker.

“Let me try again,” Anduin says, rearranging his limbs into the proper order.

This time he's ready, and when he feels weightless again he has the presence of mind to keep flapping his wings, and this time, he stays suspended in the air. He beats his wings frantically, he has no sense of how much work it takes to stay airborne, breaths already heaving as if he's been running a mile.

“Don't try so hard, my dear,” Wrathion says, lifting off much more gracefully, his own wings moving at lazy pace, “No need to tire yourself out just yet.”

“I - I don’t know what to say!” Anduin says, heart racing in a mix of adrenaline and awe. He looks back over at Wrathion, the two of them hovering above the ground in a way they never could before. “This is incredible!”

A headache begins to press on the inside of Anduin's skull, and his vision begins to swim. His wing beats falter, and gravity pulls him back down, forcing him to land hard again. “Wrathion,”Anduin begins, unsteady, “I think I'm about to - ”

The vertigo returns, the world spins, until he finds himself laying on his back in the grass, in his human body, the vial clutched in his right hand.

Wrathion's head pops into view, back in his own mortal form, looking down at Anduin.

“Overall I'd call this experiment a success,” Wrathion says, holding out a hand. “Would you?”

Anduin takes his hand, wobbling a bit as he readjusts to having just the two legs, “It was okay.”

Wrathion huffs. “Was it ‘okay’ enough to try again?”

Anduin turns the vial over in his hands. “I guess.” He says to annoy Wrathion, though he can't suppress an excited smile.


End file.
